Eleni Zinovia
by zedonkulouslybashful
Summary: Everything is that creepy statue's fault; this is a story about how Jowan and Merrill came to blood magic and the subsequent fallout of that. Also, time will tell if this fic remains compliant with the canon: conspiracies within. Please let me know in the comments if I'm too subtle. Pairings: Jowan/Merrill, Morrigan/Fenris, with hints of F!Amell/Alistair and M!Hawke/Merrill


**Disclaimer**: These are borrowed, Bioware-owned characters.

**Prompt**: dragon age - k ink . live journal 7619 . ? thread = 28517571 # t 28517571

**Prompt gist**: Merrill and Jowan have a lot in common; what would happen if they met?

**Alternative title**: Six Degrees of Separation

**Notes**: Please let me know in the comments if this is confusing. Wondering if I'm too subtle at times. Rated M for implied rape and brief torture but nothing too graphic. Just bumping it up to be safe.

Also, for those of you who follow my 'Human Titles' fic, a chapter is in progress. Writing all the Awakening goings-on is a necessary evil; I'm ready to get back to story-weaving but can't just yet for the purposes of the overall story. :|

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-1-

Eleni Zinovia, the Tevinter statue, was very lonely cooped up by herself. She and Jowan spent many illuminating afternoons together. They talked about ancient Tevinter, blood magic, and other things.

...Jowan wasn't evil, he just knew he was scrawny nerd with a girl for a best friend. The templars all whispered that she was Jowan's "hag". Well, except for Cullen; Jowan's bruised ribs were evidence of what he thought. Jowan let them think he was gay. Thankfully, most of them left him alone. But Bran's forceful attempt to _straightened_ him out was the last straw.

That was also the last time he met with Eleni in the basement for a while. He had previously warned her that his visits might stop abruptly, and when they did, she stuck to the agreed upon plan. If she could help her pseudo-apprentice escape the Tower by slight deception, so be it.

Appearing innocent while lying threw his teeth was the only real skill Jowan excelled at. And Amell was a good and gullible one. "Please help me find my phylactery!" and there she was to help.

Things, of course, took a dramatic turn after that.

Lily, being a Chantry initiate, was by-and-large a nice girl. Not very pretty but she paid "that kind" of attention to Jowan and that was more than what he could say for most women. Starry-eyed Amell sure never got his hints and, after a while, Jowan gave up of her. (That didn't stop Cullen's beat-down sessions, unfortunately.)

Jowan had no idea where Lily could be nor if he should bother trying to find her. But, he remembered, Eluvians had the capability to scry; if he found her, he could at least say he was sorry.

"Probably more sensible to try and survive than to chase down an ex-girlfriend though," thought the blood mage.

-2-

The Sabre clan headed north from the environs of Lothering, lead by the ambling of their halla.

"Merrill! Where are you, Da'len?" called the Keeper.

Jowan disallowed Merrill to respond. She was the first non-darkspawn he'd seen in weeks. And she was pretty.

He thought toward her, "_Don't be frightened_," but immediately sensed that she wasn't. She was actually...curious.

"_Not used to that_," he thought. He was careful to not let that across their mental bond.

"_How are you able to do this?_" she asked through their connection.

Jowan hesitated and, when he did so, realized he felt light-headed. He broke the connection, sat down on a mossy log, fumbled in his pocket for a lyrium vial, and took a swig. Then he looked up expecting that she'd ran away. Glad that she hadn't he said, "It's called 'Magia d'Sangue', I think...or...in the common tongue, uh...'blood magic'," and winced, again expecting her to flee.

Instead, she sat next to him and waited for him to continue.

Jowan cleared his throat then stammered, "Well, ah, som- some scholars said it originated in Tevinter but, um, but others say it was an art of the Arlathan elves."

Merrill's ears literally perked up and she scooted closer, saying "**Really?**" in a mesmerized tone.

Pleased with himself, then immediately self-conscious, he struggled to think of something he could say next that would impress her more.

"...Have, uh, have you heard of Eluvians?"

Merrill sat up straighter then shook her head 'no'.

"They were also in Tevinter. But, again, scholars disagree on their origins. Some think they were elvish too," he paused, blushed, and timidly offered, "Most highly magical things were so, I tend to agree with them."

Overhead, a raven cawed and ruffled its wings. In the distance, Marethari called out again for her First.

"What are Eluvians like?" asked Merrill.

He swallowed, dared to inch toward her ever so slightly, then said, "I've, um, I've never seen one myself but, hm, well, they are tall, wide, swirling liquid mirror-like...things. Except if you cast a spell toward them, they can find something...or someone." He paused, feeling guilty about Lily (and about talking to this pretty elf girl), then continued, "When you cast toward it, it's called 'scrying'. And if you cast another spell, you can join whatever you scried through the Eluvian."

Merrill considered what he said then replied, "I think I've seen one of those."

"You have?" Jowan exclaimed. The raven startled and flew to another branch nearby.

"Yes, in the Brecilian Forest to the east. ...Two of my clan mates caught the Blight from it so my Keeper smashed it. ...Can I tell you a secret?"

Honored to be in the good graces of a pretty stranger, he said, "Absolutely."

"I kept one of the shards. I did it because I thought it was beautiful. But if it's _literally_ a piece of our history..."

Jowan tilted his head, confused. "_Our?_" he thought, "_Does she mean...mages?_" Then it dawned on him. He checked his hair; his ears were covered so he concluded that she didn't realize he was a human.

With a start, Merrill enthusiastically stated, "Come, you should meet the Keeper. Maybe we could convince her to go back and resemble the Eluvian!"

He may have been a sheltered Circle mage, but he wasn't an idiot; he knew a whole Dalish clan would not show a "shemlin" mercy. Especially if she introduced him as a elf and it was discovered that he wasn't.

His lonesomeness pleading against it, he cast Mind Blast, Paralyze, and Disorient on her in rapid succession. But, before he turned to go, he kissed her on the cheek. In the most girlish tone he could muster, he shouted, "Over here!" toward the worried calls of her Keeper and quickly faded into the shadows.

The raven flew back to camp where the starry-eyed Amell, her Alistair, the Chantry twit, and the drooling mutt _surely_ had all returned to camp from the Circle Tower by now.

"_One never knows when something could be useful_," Morrigan thought, deciding not to tell Flemeth about the Eluvian. "_And once I have that old hag's grimoire, we'll see who she gets to scour pots once this damnable Blight is over._"

-3-

The swirling purple light from behind her made her amber-yellow eyes that much more intense.

"Your reputation precedes you, Flemeth," said Danarius, with a gloating glance at Fenris. Danarius was certain, this time, his little wolf remembered nothing of his previous life. He was surprised Hawke parted with Fenris but perhaps female elves were more to the Champion's liking.

"You dare address me, fool?" seethed the Morrigan-clothed Flemeth at Danarius.

One of the more senior magisters wordlessly cast an entropic Death Cloud at Danarius' feet while another, by the characteristic twitch of the victim, had made him a blood thrall.

"His life does not interest me, Gentleman. It seems he values it overmuch and to kill him...well, that would validate that belief, would it not?"

The twitching stopped and the cloud receded. Just as Danarius was about to utter his gratitude, Flemeth abruptly raised her hand to silence him.

Her eyes fell to Fenris, who had prostrated himself on the floor. "Your pet" Flemeth vaguely addressing Danarius, "is my restitution." Danarius gaped in anger but didn't dare protest.

"Where are my quarters?" asked Flemeth, non-chalantly of the room.

One of the faceless magisters gestured for her to follow. Before she did so, she caused Fenris to raise with a flick of her wrist.

Across their mental bond, with a tenderness he had never know nor Morrigan (while solely herself) ever expressed, she said, "_You shall call me 'Asha'bellanar', as all your free kindred do. And I will call you your true name...Leto._"

A flicker of memory, of anger, sparked in his eyes but he quickly extinguished it, not knowing its cause.

"...Fenris, isn't it? Come now, you must accompany me," she said for the onlooking magisters' benefit. Over her shoulder, she called to Danarius, "See that the transfer of ownership is signed and under my door by tomorrow morning." Then, once away from them, she turned to face her elven companion. She whispered while lifting his chin up and looking him straight in his sad eyes, "Atisha, Leto. Emma shem'nan."

Blinking bashful, Fenris muttered in uncomprehending reply, "Yes, Mistress."

He couldn't explain it but he felt...something he didn't know the word for. Like something had tipped...and vengeance was finally coming.

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**More Notes**: "Atisha, Leto. Emma shem'nan." = "Peace, Leto. My revenge is swift."


End file.
